Disco Wasn't Murdered
by XxSpencexX
Summary: What if Shawn had misjudged Derek Ford? What if he had never stepped forward and deactivated the bomb? Written for the "What If?" challenge on the Psychfic forums.


Written for the "What If?" challenge on the forums. The challenge was to take one episode from the series and change one thing about it and use that as an inspiration for an AU. No limitations.

Standard disclaimers apply.

WARNING for multiple character deaths as well as sensitive material (imagery).

* * *

It had been a year since 'The Incident'. That's what most people at the SBPD called it, anyway. Chief Karen Vick called it the only day she had ever truly believed in Hell. It had been an entire year since the day that most everyone she cared about and had been responsible for had lost their lives.

The overturn of the Eugene Franks case had been the first domino to fall, setting into motion an unfathomable sequence of events. She had anticipated that Henry would get involved when she had first decided to involve Shawn on the case. What she hadn't anticipated was the length that Shawn would go to solve the case. It was true that he had always been a bit of a wild card, his methods and actions more than a bit unorthodox, but that was usually the reason cases were solved. He wasn't bound by the rules of being a law enforcement officer, but she never thought he'd endanger the lives of so many people. He took a risk by activating the timer, thinking that the actual creator of the bomb would step forward and deactivate it. He was wrong. She knew deep down that it was a move he'd made in order to help keep Henry's reputation unsullied, but that didn't ease any of the guilt she felt. Maybe if she had been a bit more stern with him up to that point…No, she couldn't go down that road again.

When the bomb had detonated, it had leveled a half-block radius. She remembered when she had first arrived at the scene, the chaos that had greeted her. She only noticed the body parts at first, the remnants of what was left of her officers. Those closest to the blast had basically been obliterated, but those that were a distance off had either been hit with force of the blast or with shrapnel. She had sat silently, unable to move, for a good ten minutes before exiting her car. She took careful steps through the war-zone-like labyrinth, her chest growing tighter and tighter the closer she got to the point of detonation. The smoke of residual fires mingled with a drizzling mist, and it took her entirely too long to realize that it wasn't any type of normal mist at all, that it had a red tint to it that made the tightness in her chest drop to her stomach and she had to clench her teeth together to hold back a dry heave. She had all but lost it after that.

Now, Karen walked up the entrance-way to the Psychiatric Health-Facility, her shoulders set and her stride confident. It gave her an air of authority, a mask of poise. Guster and Spencer used to call it her "Boss Walk", saying that it was the secret weapon that she used to scare the pants off of a suspect – their words, not hers. She faltered for a moment at the memory, her composure crumbling ever so slightly, and she came to a full stop just in front of the door. She blinked rapidly to fight the prickle she felt in the corner of her eyes. Her last thought before squaring her shoulders again and continuing into the building was that she was glad that she was wearing sunglasses.

Guster was already sat at their usual table when she entered the visitation area. He was fidgeting with a corner of a small notebook, edges worn from constant use. Karen already knew that almost every page was covered in what Guster had said were notes, his information and evidence about an ongoing case that Karen never had the heart to tell him didn't exist.

"Hi, Karen," Gus grinned as she took her place across from him, and Karen wasn't sure if his happiness was due to the shot she knows the morning nurse gives him or because it had been a while since she had come to visit. Either way, it was good to see his mood had improved so considerably. It made the unfocused void that had taken up residence in his eyes that much less noticeable. The doctors called it an advanced case of survivor's guilt, but she didn't know if she'd fare any better at having to witness her best friend die in such a horrific manner.

Karen answered his greeting with a soft smile of her own. She tried to keep her eyes from watering, but was only mildly successful. "Hello, Gus."

Gus' eyes widened and he took a quick survey of the room before he leaned toward her, motioning her to do the same. She obliged, pretending to lean in to inspect the notebook in front of him. "You can't call me that, Chief. You'll blow my cover. My undercover name is Gary, you know that. We're lucky I already checked this room for bugs, otherwise that could have put the whole case at risk. Remind me to thank Shawn for teaching me to spot one."

"It was ridiculous of me to be so careless, Gary. It won't happen again." The doctors said it helped when she played along, something about taking stress off of his brain.

He nodded, seeming placated for the moment. They both sat back in their seats, both a bit more relaxed. "It's okay right now, there's no one around so there's no need for code. Just be a little more careful in the future. Any leads on the case?"

Karen shook her head and sighed. "Not yet. You're notes are good, very helpful, but the person behind it all it seems to be a professional."

Gus shrugged, and the non-surprise on his face says he was expecting that answer. "It's okay. There'll be a break in the case soon and then I'll finally be able to go home. Just do me a favor and keep an eye on Shawn. He worries about me, but he'll never admit it."

"Of course." Karen forced herself to maintain eyes contact. "Have you…Has he been to visit recently?"

"No," Gus shakes his head, almost mournful. "It's been a few weeks since I've heard from everyone. Even you stopped coming for a while, so I was starting to worry. I felt like I was going crazy. In a nuthouse, no less. You're here now, though, so that must mean everything is okay."

And just like that she couldn't play along anymore. It must be a good sign if he's no longer seeing Shawn or Henry or Juliet or Carlton, but she didn't want to encourage the fake case any longer. On the other hand, she didn't want to cause a regression by giving it away that something was wrong, especially when he wasn't ready. It seemed safer to just change the subject. "How have you been?"

"Same as always. The food definitely isn't getting any better. Man, I really miss those quatro queso do fritos potatoes." He looked around again to ensure that none of the staff had ventured closer.

"Maybe I can see if they'll let me bring you some the next time I visit. Would you like that?"

Gus smiled again and gave her a vigorous nod. "Do you really think they'll let you bring them in here?"

"I'm the Chief of Police," she said, a mischievous smirk upturning her lips. "I can bring you the whole restaurant if you wanted me to."

Gus threw his head back and barked out a laugh, the kind that made his whole body shake, and it was the most amazing sound Karen had heard in a year.

It had been a month since she had started visiting Guster regularly again, three times a week just as she always did. She brought the twice baked potatoes he liked on every visit, even though the restaurant still hasn't found a way to improve the food quality during travel. She also started bringing him various snacks, approved by his doctors with a little persuasion from her badge.

"Something happened, didn't it? Something bad?"

Karen froze. Guster continued eating as if he hadn't just given her a mini heart attack. He'd been getting better, that's what the doctors had told her before she left a month ago. Not that she doubted it, she saw it herself; the pages of notes he gave her were becoming shorter, he was no longer adamant that she call him 'Gary', and his eyes were a little less empty every week. Maybe if she played the situation right, she could finally make something good of this situation and help him.

"Why would you think that?" She squinted her eyes, trying to gauge his reaction.

"It must have, Chief. The only reason they'd stop coming to visit is if they aren't able to. If they aren't able to, that means something happened to them. You must have stopped coming so that you could deal with whatever it was. We all can't be undercover." Gus was fiddling with the corner of his notebook again. His fingers were stiff, muscles taught, barely bending as he tried to get a control on his anxiety. Karen truly felt for him.

"Do you trust me, Guster?"

"What kind of question is that? Of course I do."

Karen leaned forward, covering Gus' hands with her own to steady them. To steady him. "Then trust me when I say that the only thing you need to worry about is you. You're here for a reason. Figure out what it is."

It was another few months before Karen walked into the visiting area to find a sobbing Guster. He was leaned over their usual table, hands cradling his head and his whole body trembling. Tears were flowing, drop after salty drop trailing along his cheeks and falling onto the cover of his notebook.

Karen rushed over, dragging a chair right next to him and pulling him into her arms. It was painful to see him like this, but if he remembered it meant that he could move on. All she could do was embrace him and let the flood of tears soak through her shirt. She held onto him tight, rubbing his back and whispered silent encouragements. This continued for almost an hour before Gus finally calmed a bit to sit up on his own. There were tears and snot all over her blouse and Gus had started to hiccup from trying to breathe through the cries. She continued rubbing his back with one had while digging through her pockets for a tissue with the other. He accepted it quickly, turning away from her to clean himself up almost as if embarrassed for his display of emotion.

"I s-should have been there. I-I'm such a coward." While he was no longer outright weeping, she could still hear quiet sniffles and his body was still trembling.

She guided his head back in her direction, forcing him to look at her. "Don't you dare say that. There is no shame in fear, Gus. You are not a law enforcement officer and you had no legal obligation to stand next to the bomb. What happened was unfortunate, a tragedy, but you in no way should feel any guilt. Understand?"

Gus nodded, though he didn't look at all convinced. That was okay, though, because it was over a year later and Karen hadn't completely shelved the guilt either. She had learned to accept the situation and had learned to live with the memory, as Gus would in time. What was most important is that Burton Guster was finally healing.


End file.
